


Don't Remember Me

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Kahlia Mahariel [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: It's been eight years since Kahlia was declared dead by the entire world, sacrificed to end the Fifth Blight. Now, she finds herself back in Denerim with Zevran, chasing a mark they've been contracted to kill. And Zevran has been summoned to the palace to speak with King Alistair. Does he remember her, even after all this time? Kahlia truly hopes not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Teen and Up for the mentioned but not described horrific violence and non-con. None of it is described in any detail, just mentioned.

“Do you think he recognized me?” Kahlia asked worriedly, scowling at the note in Zevran’s hand.

“Oh, I doubt that, my dear,” Zev told her gently.

“But he’s known me for a long time,” she said.

“Yes, but no one looks for dead women in scarred faces,” Zevran said, smiling at her sadly. She grimaced, touching the scars in her chin. Zevran took her hand and placed a kiss on it. “Think nothing of it, my dear,” he told her, and she knew he was talking about her scars as much as the royal summons he held. “Likely, he’s simply worried I’ve been contracted to kill him.” Kahlia snorted.

“The day someone puts a contract out on the illustrious King Alistair will be the day pigs fly and the Archdemon apologizes,” she said. Zevran laughed, a full-bodied, throaty sound that made Kahlia smile in return.

“That would be quite a sight!” he said, still chuckling. “I can see it now! Urthemiel on bended knee before you, pork flapping in the background!”

“I’d pay good coin to see that,” Kahlia said wryly, his mirth infectious as ever. She’d noticed, recently, that Zevran laughed more than was necessary. At first, she’d put it up to his relief at having her back, but now she understood. He laughed so that she would smile. He knew she was hurting, and he knew that there was little he could do to help. So while she healed in any way she could, he made sure that she would never be in poor spirits with him. It was the only way he knew to help, and she loved him all the more for it.

“I’ll go see him,” Zevran continued. “I’ll make sure he knows that our contract is for no one he’ll mind losing, and then we’ll go kill the mark, and then we’ll go home. Sounds good, yes?”

“Alright,” Kahlia said. “Be careful.”

“Always, my love,” Zevran said, his smile tender. He leaned in, asking for a kiss but not taking it, letting her choose. She closed the last bit of distance and he kissed her softly, letting her lead. She licked his lower lip and he hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t done that since she’d been back. Then he opened and welcomed her into his mouth, his tongue twining gently with hers. He cupped her jaw, a light touch to guide her to the angle he wanted, and she sighed happily.

He pulled back before she did. “Much more of this,” he said, his voice low and throaty, “and Alistair will simply have to wait until another day.” Kahlia smiled at him as he tried to subtly adjust his pants.

“I think you should go before he has you arrested,” she told him. He sighed dramatically.

“Oh, very well,” he pouted. “Breaking out of prison is usually more trouble than it’s worth, anyway. Stay safe, my dear. I’ll be back soon.” And he left after one last, heated look. Kahlia waited for a count of ten, then grabbed her little bag of tricks (non-lethal poisons, mostly) and followed. No one would harm him, not while she still breathed.

The inn they were staying at was in the market district, and Kahlia tailed her lover nearly the length of the city to the palace district. He went in the front, showing the summons, written in Alistair’s hand, to the guard who stopped him. Kahlia wound around the side, shaking her head because Zevran hadn’t even noticed that she was tailing him. He’d checked for tails multiple times out of habit, but she had learned his habits so well that she knew exactly when to hide herself to remain unseen, how much distance to keep between them. He needed to be less predictable, or someone would study him until they could tail him like she could.

The open window she found was on the second floor, but that wasn’t even remotely a problem for Kahlia. She’d spent her whole childhood climbing ancient trees in the forests her clan camped in, and she scaled the much-pitted wall easily. If she wasn’t mistaken, she wasn’t the only one to use that route, either. A forbidden lover or two seemed to use that entrance, as well, since the window led into an opulent bedroom. There were unmistakable hand- and footholds in the wall that she used.

From there, she had to find her way up into the rafters that the guards used to remain unseen, but she had to wait until she was in a position to do so unseen and remain that way as she found her way to the throne room. That was trickier than getting into the palace unseen, but Kahlia finally found her opening as she went down a servant’s stair behind the kitchens. The cooks, as she well knew, could handle their own security and hated ham-handed guards cluttering their space. While getting up to less-than-savory business in the palace a couple of times during the Blight, she’d been shooed away from the kitchens rather forcefully.

Staying out of sight of the guards in the rafters was also a trick. She had to use some of her more difficult tricks for that. She had to swing herself out of the way several times to avoid being spotted, while still remaining in the rafters. The servants didn’t look up, but she couldn’t just drop down among them unnoticed. She ducked into other rooms a few times, flattened herself behind pillars, and simply froze in the shadows numerous times before she finally made her way into the throne room.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” Alistair said with thinly-veiled hostility. That was odd. Kahlia didn’t remember his relationship with Zevran being that unfriendly.

“Ah, yes,” Zevran replied with his usual arrogance. “It is so odd that I should appear as summoned.” Kahlia shook her head. He’d get himself stabbed if he wasn’t careful.

“Look, I’ve got a lot of other things to deal with,” Alistair said, clearly not in the mood for games. “Why are you in my city?”

“Oh, is it yours?” Zevran asked with feigned shock as Kahlia wrapped a cloth filled with sleeping powder around the mouth of the guard she’d snuck up behind. She laid him gently along the rafters and tied him down with his belt so he wouldn’t fall off, then made her way towards the other one, who was much too focused on the hostile exchange below to notice her. “I’m afraid I was under the mistaken impression that I was in Rivain!”

“Cute, Zevran.” Alistair’s tone made it clear that he did not find it cute. “Seriously, though, why are you here? Last I heard, you’d taken over the Crows.”

“And I cannot take a vacation?” he asked, pretending to be startled. “I’m on a rather sentimental trip, you see. Seeing the sights of Denerim without chasing darkspawn through a ruined city and all that.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alistair said flatly.

“That is not my problem,” Zevran replied.

“I can make it your problem,” Alistair said through clenched teeth. Kahlia rolled her eyes at the raging testosterone as she tied the other guard to the rafters with his belt. _Men_ , she thought.

“I have enough problems of my own, you know,” Zevran told him, his joking manner gone as if it had never been. “You may recall that the only woman I will ever love was lost here. It makes being here a bit difficult, to say the least.” Alistair flinched.

“You’re not the only one who loved her,” he said quietly. “So honor her memory away from here.”

“I cannot go until my contract is fulfilled,” Zevran said, finally being honest.

“Am I going to regret letting you complete it?” Alistair asked.

“Not likely. This man is a pain in your ass, as well, as I understand it,” Zevran told him.

“Well, then, maybe you’ll take care of part of my headache.”

“Perhaps so.” And then they were silent, staring at each other.

“Eight years now,” Alistair said after a long silence. He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. “Eight years since we lost her.”

“You did not have her to lose,” Zevran said angrily, taking an aggressive step forward. “She was mine. I was hers. I will always be hers. No one could _ever_ take her place in my heart.”

“I loved her too,” Alistair said. “She chose you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love her. And even if I hadn’t, she was still my friend.”

“Then _you_ should have taken the final blow, not her,” Zevran hissed. “ _You_ should have been thrown from the tower, not her. You should have-“

“I would have!” Alistair cried. “She took the blow before I could! You think I don’t know that the whole world is lesser without her? You think I don’t feel that as keenly as you do?”

“I know that you do not,” Zevran hissed, more furious than Kahlia had ever seen him. She frowned, making her way to a better vantage to watch the argument. “You’ve had your little queen to fill the void she left. Does your Cousland girl fill you with guilt? Or only with pleasure? I know you married her for love. The whole damned _world_ knows that. So do not speak to _me_ about loss.”

“Leave Elissa out of this!” Alistair cried, slicing his hand through the air as if that would make Zevran stop.

“She is already a part of this, is she not?” Zevran asked accusingly. “Does she know about your feelings for your fellow Warden? Does your demure little wife know about the fiery goddess you crave? Does she know how you yearn for a Dalish beauty of untold courage?”

“Elissa is _not_ demure, and she does know!” Alistair said defensively, rising to the bait. “I don’t keep secrets from her! Can you say the same, that you didn’t keep secrets from Kahlia?”

“I kept _nothing_ from her,” Zevran said. “She knew all there was to know about me before the end. I would have it no other way.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“That is not my concern!” Zevran cried. _Enough_ , Kahlia thought. _They’ll come to blows if I don’t do something._ After debating with herself for a moment longer, she dropped down out of the rafters right in between them. Zevran gasped with surprise and Alistair cried out.

“Alright,” she said, “this pissing contest needs to end now.” She glared at each of them in turn.

“What are you doing here?” Zevran asked in hushed tones, as if that would help. Kahlia rolled her eyes.

“You seriously didn’t notice him reaching for his belt knife?” she asked. Alistair flushed guiltily. “You both need to just calm down. Honestly, I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Wait…” Alistair said, approaching slowly. “It can’t be…”

“It isn’t,” Kahlia told him, glaring.

“I’d know those eyes anywhere,” Alistair whispered, the blood draining from his face. “Like molten gold, tilted up in the corners and framed with thick lashes… What are you, that you’d imitate her?” He sounded angry.

“I’m a dream,” Kahlia said sweetly. “Just a dream. Like that sister you don’t actually have.”

“You need to go,” Zevran said, reaching for her only to drop his arm.

“So do you, before either of you do something stupid,” she replied.

“That voice…” Alistair was still approaching slowly, as if he were being dragged by invisible rope. His eyes were wide and haunted. Kahlia dismissed him from her attention.

“Come on, Zev, let’s take care of our mark and go home,” she said, trying to order him away. He was scowling at her.

“How did you even get here?” he asked.

“The rafters, of course,” she told him.

“And the guards?” Zevran asked, raising an eyebrow. Kahlia shrugged.

“Most of them simply didn’t see me. The ones stationed in this room are unconscious and tied to the rafters by their belts.”

“Ooh, clever,” he said, unable as ever to dismiss her creativity in doing illegal things, even when he disapproved.

A hand fell heavily on Kahlia’s shoulder from behind, and instinct took over, a newer instinct bleeding into an old one. Her years evading shemlen with her clan blended into her fights with her darkspawn captors. She grabbed the hand and twisted it around, then her fist met her assailant’s face before she scrambled away, breathing hard, waiting for the pain, waiting to be held down to receive her punishment.

Slowly, the pounding of Kahlia’s heart died down enough for her to hear again, and the red haze of pure terror receded from her vision. As sense returned to her, she realized she was crouched behind a pillar in the throne room of the palace in Denerim. For a moment, she didn’t understand, was so certain that she was still trapped in The Pit.

“Leave her be!” Zevran said quietly, presumably to Alistair. “She’ll remember where she is in a moment, but don’t approach her before then.”

“She just punched me!” Alistair said, his voice oddly muffled.

“You touched her when she wasn’t expecting it,” Zevran said, his tone disapproving.

“So what? I think she broke my nose!”

“Don’t be such a wuss,” Zevran told him, exasperated. “It isn’t broken. It’s barely even bleeding. She could have done far worse.”

“Fine, but why did she attack me?”

“Where do you think she was all this time?” Zevran asked him. “Why do you think we couldn’t find her body? Hmm? The _fucking_ darkspawn took her! She’s scarred now, and she hasn’t been free long enough for the open wounds in her mind to heal or even scab over.”

“Dear Maker…” Alistair whispered.

“Where was your maker when I was dragged underground?” Kahlia asked, emerging from behind her cover. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her shaking, but her fury made her speak. “Where was your maker when the darkspawn tried to turn me into a brood mother? Where was your maker when they failed and decided that I would be used to slake their lusts instead? Where was your maker when I clawed and crawled my way to freedom? He wasn’t there. Only I was, and the monsters who tortured me.”

Zevran approached but kept his distance, concern written across his entire body. She appreciated his restraint, but the memory of cold, slimy fingers covered with fluids that burned needed to be chased away. She closed the distance between them and leaned against him. He wrapped her in his arms, carefully, and held her close. She buried her face in his neck and just breathed him in, letting the warm reality of his presence chase away the memory of agony. Zevran sighed heavily and hummed softly, just giving her the sound of his voice to chase away the groaning and grunting of monsters in the dark deep. After a few moments, she was able to pull away. She looked at Alistair.

“Sorry I punched you,” she said, not really meaning it. “We need to go now. Don’t tell anyone about me. They won’t believe you, anyway. I’ll only disappear again. It’s not so hard to do.”

“Wait!” Alistair called as she began to turn away. “Let my healers look at you. They could-“

“No,” Kahlia said, cutting him off. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “My wounds are as healed as they will ever be. What damage remains is permanent.” She looked down and felt her eyes mist over just before the words she did not mean to say burst past her lips. “I’ll never have children, and these scars will never fade away.”

“You’ll never…” Alistair almost repeated, stopping himself when Zevran glared at him. “I’m so sorry.” Kahlia scoffed.

“I don’t need your pity,” she said viciously. “But if you know of a way to counteract the sort of uterine scarring that results from the equivalent of acid burns, I’d love to hear it.”

“Acid?” Alistair frowned, seeming two steps behind, as usual.

“Darkspawn blood is corrosive,” she reminded him, as if he were a particularly slow child. “Wouldn’t it make sense that their other bodily fluids would be, as well?” The look of abstract horror on his face would have been funny under other circumstances.

“It’s time, now, for us to disappear back into the throng, I think,” Zevran said. “We have a contract to complete, after all. And then I think we will leave this city for good.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Kahlia said quickly. She took his hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He squeezed her hard, still worried.

“Goodbye, Alistair,” she said over her shoulder. “I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.” She didn’t look back as they left. She didn’t want to see the life she’d lost forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this as Day 11 of my Inktober posts, but since it's something I've been working on for a while I wanted to make it its own post, too. I've had the idea for this story rattling around in my head for a while now, ever since Kahlia came to be in my head (so, like, two years ago. Ish.)
> 
> When Kahlia mentions "that sister you don't actually have," it's a reference to the fact that Goldanna is not Alistair's sister even though he thinks she is, as well as the nightmare he has when the Sloth demon imprisons them at the Circle Tower.


End file.
